Stars
by time-converges
Summary: A moment between Donna and her grandfather. Prequel chapter added. Doctor/Donna
1. Stars

**Title:** Stars  
**Spoilers:** For Season 4  
**Characters:** Donna, the Doctor, Wilf

**Wordcount:** 471  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** The characters belong to the BBC - no infringement is intended.  
Summary: Written for the prompt: "You're in a place with plastic glow in the dark stars on the ceiling." at Scifi Muses.

**A/N** This is post-Journey's End, but also post-Donna getting her memories back (I don't know how yet, but she does.)

Donna sat next to the hospital bed, holding her grandfather's hand. He was dozing at the moment, but she didn't want him to wake up alone. She hated seeing him like this; he looked so small and weak. She hated that he was here in the nursing home, rather than at home, surrounded by his familiar things. After his second stroke he had required more care than her mother could provide, and she had been off traveling. The Doctor had brought her home, straight away, as soon as her mother had called. That didn't soothe the guilt she felt for being away so long.

And oh, she hated the nursing home. Sure, the staff were nice enough, but they still had too many patients to care for to give much personal attention to any particular one. And always the odor of death, and age, and despair hanging around the place. She had tried to brighten up the room a bit though. She and the Doctor had put up glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, so that Granddad could see the stars even without his telescope. The Doctor had wanted to perfectly recreate the entire sector, but she made him stop at what was visible from Granddad's favorite vantage point.

She heard someone in the doorway, and turned tear-filled eyes to see the Doctor. He came to sit beside her, handing her a cup of coffee and putting his arm around her. "Has he woken up yet?"

She shook her head. "Not yet." She sipped at the coffee, and pulled a face at its bitterness. "I should have been here."

"You're here now. That's what matters. He didn't want you to stay at home."

She smiled. "I think he wanted to travel with you as much as I did."

A shadow crossed the Doctor's face. "Ah, I should have taken him somewhere."

She looked at him, stricken. "Don't. Please." She put the coffee down on the nightstand.

"Would you rather have tea?" the Doctor asked.

She shook her head. "Would you just stay here with me?"

"Of course," he replied, no hesitation.

"D'you think he can hear us?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. It can't hurt if you want to talk to him."

And the false stars twinkled above them as Donna talked, told him of all of the places she'd seen, the people she'd met, the adventures, the running, the heartbreak. All of it. So he could experience it too.


	2. Binary

The harsh ring of her mobile jolted Donna from a sound sleep, and she blinked, confused at the sound for a moment.

"Don't answer it," the Doctor said, his sleepy voice low in her ear. His arm was draped loosely over her waist and he was curled around her.

"It's probably Mum," she said, already feeling the cold of fear in her stomach as she sat up and reached for the phone. He sat up with her, his hand on her shoulder as she answered. Her mother's voice was rushed and panicky on the other end of the line.

"Mum, slow down, I can't understand you," she said, already knowing it must be about her grandfather and fearing the worst. The lights came on in the room, low and soothing.

"Donna, you have to come home. He's worse, and I don't think he'll be able to come home." Sylvia's voice dissolved into sobbing.

"Mum, it's alright. Just tell me what happened," she said, fighting to keep her voice calm. She reached out her hand, blindly, and the Doctor took it, squeezing it and putting his other arm around her shoulders.

"He's had another stroke. The doctors say he won't be able to come home, that he'll have to go to a nursing home," her mother sobbed again. "I don't know what to do."

"He's in the hospital now?"

"Yes, but he's being moved tomorrow. Will you come?"

"Of course I will. I'll be there straight away," she said, turning to look questioningly at the Doctor. He nodded, and slid out of bed. Donna watched as he pulled on his dressing gown and headed for the console room.

"Oh, Donna, please hurry," Sylvia said.

"I will, Mum, we'll be right there. Go have a cuppa, you'll feel better, alright?"

"Alright."

"Tell him—" Donna's voice faltered. "Tell him I'll be right there."

"I will. Hurry," her mother said.

Donna put the phone back on the table, and climbed out of bed, pulling on her own dressing gown. She was still standing in front of the wardrobe, staring blindly at her clothes, when the Doctor returned to the room, dressed but with his tie crooked. He put his arms around her from behind, and she leaned back into him.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," he said, softly.

"You'll come with me?"

"Of course."

"I don't know what to wear," she said. "Silly, I know." She remembered this strange disconnect, the feeling of unreality, from when her Dad died.

"Not silly at all. Wear the green. You always look lovely in the green."

She felt tears start in her eyes, and closed them. "I'm not ready for this," she said.

"No one ever is."

She turned in his arms so she could rest her head on his shoulder, put her arms around him. "I should have been there. Or visited more."

"He loves you. He knows you love him. That's what matters," he said, stroking her hair.

"I should get dressed," she said, but she didn't move.

"I don't think your mother is ready for you to arrive in your dressing gown, no," he agreed. She tightened her arms around him. "Are you thinking about your Dad?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper over the lump in her throat. "I don't want to do this again."

"I know. I'm here. We'll get through it together." She could hear the suppressed emotion in his voice, and ached for him, knowing he loved her grandfather as much as she did.

The tears that had been threatening spilled out of her eyes. She knew – she _knew_ – he would always be there for her, but it was still a relief to know she didn't have to do this alone. The fear that had been clenched in her stomach eased a little as she felt his arms on her back.

"I love you, you know."

"I know. I love you. Always," he said.

She tilted her head back and he pressed a kiss to her lips before releasing her. "Definitely the green," he said, as he turned her toward the wardrobe again. "I'll make you a coffee."

She nodded, and pulled the green blouse from the wardrobe as he left for the kitchen.

***

Donna stood by the hospital bed, wishing her grandfather would just open his eyes, at least know she was there. She squeezed the Doctor's hand reflexively and looked up to see tears in his eyes. She put her arm around his waist as she felt tears in her own eyes again. She knew, whatever the next days or weeks might bring, that they'd have each other to lean on and draw strength from, and that would be enough to see them through.


End file.
